


For Yongguk, who was reincarnated.

by bedeliarara



Category: B.A.P
Genre: Age Difference, Angst, Gen, M/M, Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-22
Updated: 2019-10-22
Packaged: 2020-12-28 10:47:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21135464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bedeliarara/pseuds/bedeliarara
Summary: A continuation of my previous story, where Youngjae adopted the reincarnated child of Yongguk who passed away early in life. His friends and family accepted it, everybody, except for Daehyun.





	For Yongguk, who was reincarnated.

It’s the innocence of a childhood freshly grown out of. Baram think he lives a happier life now, it’s been 5 years already, 5 years since his father adopted him. But it felt longer than his 13 years before, before it was just waiting, listening, nodding, never talking, but now, he’s in school, stressed by exams, laughing with friends, he tries to not be too troublesome for his father, he’s the only father he will ever have anyway.

His father Yoo Youngjae, he’s already thinking what he should buy for him, his forty-second’s birthday is coming up. And because he has allowance now, he can save money. Father looks like he needs a new wallet, being a supervisor of an entertainment company might give him a sizable income, but he could barely spend the weekend with Baram, let alone go to the mall.

One day, when they’re mindlessly talking about funny stuff that happened that day as they eat dinner, Baram told Youngjae of the shenanigans he got into that day, going to the park and trying to play skateboard, his friend ended up hurting his knee! It wasn’t serious but it stings apparently.

_‘Just like Junhong.’ _

And Youngjae freezes, his eyes flutter, he didn’t realize his eyes are glassy until Baram asks him what’s wrong. The boy doesn’t even remember what he said, what those words implies, his voice is getting lower, and as Youngjae gets older, rather than starting to forget his past, he’s hit right in the face with it, it was of his own doing, he supposes…

-

It’s not like he didn’t notice it, but just like how they deal with pain it their twenties, when they are working between IVs and oxygen masks, with screaming fans just a room away. They, he, opted to pretend that it doesn’t matter.

Daehyun usually stays at home, with his daughters in a prestigious boarding school, only coming back for the weekends, Daehyun usually spends his time keeping his wife’s tomb pristine and adorned with fresh flowers directly from his tiny balcony garden every single day. He loved her, he truly did, the others adore her too, they all wept and hugged each other the day the sickness took over her.

‘A precious mother, a loving wife, and the strongest woman ever walked the earth.’

But today, he finished up praying in the memorials quicker, he picked up Baram from school, since Youngjae is always busy, and Baram is always happy getting picked up if he’s not going out with friends, the bus is cheaper, but it’s oh so tiring, taking a bus and walking back home, he’s usually quiet, keeping his feelings and displeasure on the inside. But they know how to coax it out of him.

Of course, they know…

Of course… how many years have they spent trying to coax a smile out of the tired, soft man, on their first debut anniversary? Yongguk choked on laughter.

-

He opted to ignore it, Daehyun comes to cook dinner now, empty nest syndrome paired with never ending grieve, he wanted his daughters to stay but… but… a scholarship? A better education? Their happy tears when they got accepted?

He’s jealous of Youngjae sometimes, yes, that’s the excuse he uses. “I miss cooking for the girls! At least I can cook for you and the kid, since you’re always so busy.”

Baram, now allowed to drink since he’s an adult, spend the afternoon buzzed along with his father and uncle, talked about this sweet girl he met during class, with her long brown hair, adorable eyes, so wide, he said, and sweet, plump lips.

Youngjae says nothing. He pretends to see her selfies with him. But he erases that from his memory really quick. Out of sight out of mind.

‘Right? She looks exactly like your daughters, uncle!’

Oh Yongguk—no. Baram. Oh, sweet boy, oh god, the pull of universe, the pull of destiny.

Youngjae is sick of it. His own son. 

Daehyun is frozen in place, suddenly the alcohol feels like tar.

-

Of course, it would be her, the sweet girl, Baram came home with that gummy smile, with that same shy demeanor, with that same _haircut_ even, it pains him… it does, it **_pains_** him, similarities, identical face.

“How did it go?” Youngjae asked. Baram had asked through the phone last night all giggly that her parents are letting him stay over since he’s ‘such a sweet boy’. The highest form of compliment for a boy his age, sleeping over at his pretty crush’ house.

‘Oh, father it was amazing! Like! She was—oh I mean, like, it was fun.’ He was so excited about it, Youngjae always make sure the little lovebirds are being safe, and of course Baram remembers. He’s a shy boy, but they’re all men, they’d understand, right? It was sweet, mindless, teenage fun.

-

_He dreamt of someone that night, Baram, tossing and turning, as he looks at himself in the mirror in that dream, look at him, he’s taller, skinnier, he’s somewhere… busy, noises buzzing around him, and he puts on his clothes wordlessly, adored with jewels, adorned with heavy earrings, so many rings on his hand. _

_He caught a man’s eyes in the mirror, that man has been staring, happens a lot, because he didn’t look away, they stare for seconds long, not long enough to be noticeable, but short, and intense enough, that Baram (Baram?) felt it in his soul. _

_He never felt like this before, it’s like when he sees his girlfriend, but amplified, amplified, amplified, waiting to burst, but chained down by a force. He feels suffocated, like his heart is breaking over and over again by a simple look, a simple stare, the resignation in both their eyes brought him to tears. But there are no tears there, not in the face of the man that looked back at him in the mirror. _

_Suddenly there are defeaning screams, Baram cannot see, it was too bright, but he felt joy. _

_And then, back in that room, clothes different, casual, but they both looked at each other again, this time, loosened up by adrenaline, Baram wanted to touch, wanted to feel, wanted to… be close… just a little, just for a second, oh god. He begs, please. God. Why? Why must they carry this? On top of the burden, on top of the stress. Love. On top of pain. Love. On top of duty. Love, love so taboo. _

_‘—guk, let’s go.—” _

_Wait. Father…? _

_“Yeah, lets.” _

_Wait, that’s his voice? He sounds so… weird, familiar, older. _

_The man turned around, following them. Baram’s eyes look back again. They lock eyes, again, in the hall, brief, unnoticed. _

_Wait. Uncle Daehyun…? _

-

“What’s wrong? You need to eat, you have P.E. today.” It’s casual, Youngjae with his laptop next to his bowl of rice, working even during breakfast, only pausing to cook and plate food for his son.

Baram is usually thankful, is usually happy. But there’s something bothering him, like an itch, like an ache. When he woke up, he remembers every single detail, but as the seconds tick by, it disappears from his memory, a futile attempt, like watching sand trickling down from his fingers.

What was it? It was so intense he wept when he woke up, so intense his heart was racing. But he remembers none of it, only the aftermath, not the dream. 

-

Youngjae freezes, and this time, it was audible, that afternoon, as Baram lounges on the sofa, scrolling through his social media feed, and Youngjae ticking away trying to find a way to balance out the artist schedules and their managers schedules. He’s good at his job, because he remembers what it was like in his past, now he’s diligent, hardworking.

_“You’re always so hardworking, Youngjae.”_ A low voice, it registered slow in his brain, he’s so focused, so focused, so focused.

“Yes, hyung, but I have to.”

_“You need sleep or you’re pass out again.” _

“I know Hyu—”

And that’s when he freezes, eyes bulging out, as if the spreadsheet in front of him is offending him personally, he looks up and Baram is sorting through different primetime movies on the TV, humming. “Father, I really want to watch a horror movie, it’s almost Halloween and all.”

But Youngjae abruptly stands up. He mumbles something about needing to go to the bathroom really badly. And he did, he went to the bathroom, bites down on a towel to silence his weeping, sliding down to the floor.

He was SO gentle, so caring! In his own quiet, awkward ways. He recognize that kindness, he wept as memories of his old friend sweeps him away like a sea storm. 

Earlier, when he just came back home with his sweaty uniform, munching on some egg sandwich, they have a mindless conversation.

Baram said he had to run home because it was raining heavily today. It was sunny.

_Why?_ Youngjae asked, too focused to notice. _I had practice._ Baram said.

_What practice? _

_Oh Youngjae, you know._

And he does know, Yongguk always need extra dance practice.

Baram didn’t talk about his day. It wasn’t his activity, it was a memory.

-

It’s okay if it was just with him. Baram didn’t remember, and he didn’t bring it up, the slip ups happen more and more often now, and he’s afraid, afraid that his son will mix up with his old friend, that his past will blend with his present reality. He slips, voice low, phrases familiar, always so caring, always so patient, Baram suddenly knows how to play a piano. How?

Youngjae had to do overtime, an emergency meeting, a manager had quit out of the blue, refusing to tell the reason. He has to assign another one! Quick! The kids need their schedules finished, they need someone to help them, to be there for them, when he didn’t have any back then.

Daehyun offered to watch over Baram.

A teenager? Needing a sitter?  
Sure, sure. He answered through the phone, panicking over potential hires, whoever is available.

-

Baram smiled as Uncle Daehyun came with homemade food and a thermos filled with cold ice tea.

-

Uncle Daehyun drops the plate he was washing, making a loud noise as it hit the sink. But even that didn’t snap Baram out of it.

_‘You need to rest.’_ Baram said, Daehyun just hums, pouring more dish soap to the dishes. ‘I’m serious, Daehyun.’ Mhmm, he hums some more. ‘You passed out yesterday, you still have the bandage on your hand, stop working, the performance is over.’

…

It’s dread. It’s like… Daehyun knows a boogeyman is standing right behind him, a ghost (of the past, right?). And if he turns, if he turns around… it would be real.

After that performance in Hong Kong, after he… he collapsed from fatigue. The first time. The very, very first time. Yongguk did something, _acknowledged_ their feelings, the flight home they sit side by side, his hand is hot, scorching hot from being held, his fingers gripping tightly on Yongguk ones, his nails kept pristine with a fresh coat of clear polish, so pretty, so pretty. Beautiful, handsome, pretty, just like the rest of him.

And back at the dorm, he felt a hug, the person hugging him as he tries not to pass out trying to dry himself in the bathroom, his body is pale, he needs to drink, he needs to replenish… everything, his life is sucked dry by this company, by this greed.

_‘You need to rest.’_

Daehyun’s hand trembles violently on the sink, and suddenly he feels like he’s back in the dorms again, he’s in his 20s, he just got off the plane, he finished his performance, his throat is sore, his body is cold.

‘Daehyun…’ The low voice said, Yongguk was afraid, afraid of him completely withering away and disappearing. _‘Stay with me.’_

A warm body hugged him from behind. A gasp. And Daehyun turns around.

-

In a way, Youngjae knows it was coming.

He saw it in the way Yongnam had stared at Baram’s face, on the picture him and his friends took for Baram’s 14th birthday. He was prepared for a scolding just like Daehyun lashed out on him in the past, but then Yongnam handed him the photo back. ‘Please.’ Yongnam said. ‘Take care of him, since I couldn’t in the past, I failed, don’t repeat my mistake.’

Jongup knew, seeing his eyes, how he focused, how his fingers glide of the piano, guessing every note correctly.

Junhong knew, when they played basketball together, he’s still single until now, so he has a lot of time to spend playing around with Youngjae’s kid, helping him warm up to this new group of people. Baram didn’t yell when he managed to score a point, he just smiles and let out the smallest giggle. Oh. That smile. That _smile_ he recognizes.

And yet it was an understanding, the vow to protect his reincarnation. They silently thanked Youngjae for finding him, they try to not subject him to the same level of pain his predecessor was feeling, how it chipped him away little by little, until it eroded him completely, mentally, and then physically.

This younger version of him smiles more, his voice low still, but louder, he has opinions, strong ones, like… like him. They are giving him a better life, a life they wish they had in his age, where they didn’t tour around the world, while not having any friends.

But Daehyun, Daehyun always seems to reject it.

He would lash out at Youngjae, first, blaming him, and the next minute, he would cry, saying that he could never live without seeing his face again. His wife was taken from him, suddenly his love, all of them, seems to ball inside of his body with nowhere to go.

He refuses to let go of those loves he has, he let it stay in him, fester inside of him, rotting, morbidly like his loved ones now. 

-

Daehyun was heaving, from the kiss and from panic, Youngjae has a look of disappointment mixed with pity, Baram snapping out of it, confused, memory blurry, he didn’t even manage to form a word before he’s climbing off of the man he knew as his uncle, the one he made breathless enough that the sound of their kissing fills the room, the residue of pain from the anchoring grip Daehyun had on his hair, and the stinging of his lower lip.

Baram grabbed his cardigan from the sofa, his wallet and phone from the table, and he runs and runs. Who? Who can he call? Not them, not his uncles. He calls his friends, they agree to let him stay the night, and from his panicked tone, they tell him he could stay even longer too.

-

“Wait.”

Youngjae said, Daehyun took more than half an hour to get a grip on what’s happening, to stop tasting _Yongguk_ in his tongue, to forget about _Yongguk’s_ touch on his waist, to forgo the look of _Yongguk’s_ eyes.

In the dorm, in the dorm, twenty-three years ago.

-

He threw up on the toilet, Youngjae helping him calm down from the heaving, Daehyun’s face red with tears, hands shaking.

“It wasn’t—it wasn’t Baram! He sounds like _him_! He talked—talked EXACTLY like him! It wasn’t him, it wasn’t Baram, it was—it was…” He was back, back in his arms, like for the first time that night all those years ago, they reap the longing they bury for four whole years. Just for one night, literally just one night, and the next day it was gone, but their memory of their touches are permanent, permanent just like their tattoos.

“You…” Daehyun’s confusion turns to anger, when Youngjae tries to get him to sit and calm down, he strikes him on the cheeks, crying anew. “YOU BROUGHT HIM BACK!” He accuses him, quiet accurately even. “You knew. _YOU KNEW!”_ Of course, they knew, they all do, there’s no subtlety in pain, Yongguk and Daehyun emits that all the time, every time their eyes met through the mirror.

Daehyun cries.

Because he couldn’t love him in life.

He couldn’t save him from death.

And now, he couldn’t love his reincarnated soul.

It was forbidden, taboo, piled on top of another.

“I’m sorry…” Youngjae’s voice breaks too this time. “He… god he was _my_ friend too, fuck—Daehyun, fuck… I missed him so badly, and then I saw him, I _saw_ him, I just wanted to save him this time, this time around, I want to do it _right_! Why can’t you… why can’t you see that…?”

-

Life moves on, Daehyun understands that, no matter how painful it was, life continues, time… it is unforgiving and merciful, at the same time.

History repeats itself, they say.

And _they_ are the living proof of that. History.

Just one night, in Baram’s room.

** _One night, in the dorm._ **

Youngjae pretending not to hear.

** _Yongjae distracts himself, headphones on his ear, he distracts himself with their new album. _ **

Their voices muffled, Daehyun, Yongguk, they whisper.

** _Daehyun, Yongguk, they whispered._ **

And then they part ways.

Like when their contract ends, like now, with Baram applying to the same college as his girlfriend, accepted, moving out this winter.

They part ways, the difference was Yongguk promised to stay in touch, while Baram was silent.

The difference is, Daehyun let go, and Baram forgets.

Daehyun went to his wife’s grave, then he went to Yongguk’s.

‘I met you again.’ Daehyun whispers.

‘And I wish to do that again.’ And then, a smile, albeit a sad one. ‘In the next life, Yongguk. In the next one.’

_We’ll do it right this time, wait for me, as I will wait for you. _


End file.
